The Ground is Not Mine to Walk Upon
by Word Jester
Summary: A Treasure Planet vignette. "It's not your fault, and you've been good to me. Just lately I've been feeling like I don't belong, like the ground isn't mine to walk upon." Told from the eyes of your favorite female pirate & Jim.


The bar was in full swing that night, the fullest it had been all week and that was saying something since each night all the tables were full. It wasn't much of a surprise that with the sudden spike in customers the staff of the modest inn was run ragged every night.

"Miss, my water!" an impatient, growling voice belonging to what she could only guess was a toad man. The petite, dark haired waitress turned to address the customer.

"I'll be right there sir!" the waitress reassured. She balanced the tray stacked high with dirty dishes in the palm of one hand and hurried over to the insistent customer, his requested water wrapped tightly in her hands. .She moved quickly and expertly through the maze of tables, avoiding overzealous hands and large puddles of fluids on the floor. Roars of requests were thrown her way accompanied by promises that she'd see to them after she saw to her insistent customer first.

"You're water, sir." She offered the frowning toad a pleasant smile. He grunted in response.

"Took you long enough." He snatched the water from her hand and gulped it rather loudly. Keeping the strained smile across her lips, the girl turned and walked away briskly.

Given any other time and place the girl would not have hesitated to knock the disrespecting male from his seat and press her boot crushingly against his windpipe but she had the faint feeling that a certain bar owner would not take lightly to her harming the clientele.

More roars and demands were fired her way and just as she felt her patience about to snap the deniable sound of the front door swinging open quickly silenced the ruckus. Sighing in relief, the waitress turned a grateful eye towards the entrance to find a pleasant surprise standing in the doorway.

"Jim Hawkins!" Roars of approvals accompanied with raised glasses filled the air and the waitress felt a smile grace her lips.

The boy greeted the overcrowded inn with a tentative wave before shuffling inside. He was met with high praises and good-hearted slaps on the back, all of which he greeted with a small smile. He knew that they all meant well but after a long few months on a ship filled with smelly men all he cared to see was the beautiful face of the one person he had come to cherish.

He found her easy enough, surrounded by a sea of tables and customers whose attention were trained on him. But he had eyes only for her. Her, with her long, dark hair; her, with her large, intelligent, hazel eyes; her, with her petite frame and easy smile; her, with her undivided attention on him. He found his feet rushing to meet her in the middle of the room, his smile widening with each step.

"You weren't expected back for another week or so," she greeted warmly as he stopped before her, "this is a pleasant surprise." Jim could feel his heart race as that beautiful, easy smile he had come to know spread across her face. He stepped closer to her, eager to greet her properly.

"Seems like I couldn't keep myself away from you," he answered smoothly. He placed his hands on her small hips and leaned forward slightly to take her lips with his but was abruptly stopped by a yell for food.

With a groan of frustration, the girl sent Jim an apologetic smile before slipping from his grasp to return to her work. She moved swiftly yet gracefully on her feet, cleaning and taking orders here and there. It seemed like nothing could stop her dance when a customer suddenly pushed back from their seat, right in the waitress's path.

The move was so unexpected that the girl had little time to react and ended up colliding with the customer, sending a mountain full of dishes crashing to the ground and the girl toppling along with them.

The sound rang loudly throughout the inn, drawing all attention to the fallen girl and surprised customer who was surprisingly unharmed. Jim rushed to help the overturned girl, the only help offered.

_**It's not your fault, **_

The boy reached out to help the girl to her feet but wasn't at all surprised when his offer was rejected. He stepped back and watched as she climbed to her feet, her clothes ruined by the leftover food and spilled drinks.

She barely glanced at Jim as she examined the damage done to her clothes and pride. She didn't seem fazed by the small cuts and the sharp pain in her side every time she inhaled didn't seem much of problem but the intense stares on her were a different matter all together. She regarded the customer before her with open contempt.

"It seems," she said through gritted teeth, "that your dinner has been spilled all over me. I'll be sure to tell the cook to make you another plate post haste, on the house of course." And before she lost her sense of self-control completely, she spun on her heels and retreated swiftly for the kitchen. She was all too aware of the intense stares directed at her back as she disappeared into the kitchen.

_**And you've been good to me.**_

She stormed into the safe haven that was the kitchen and slammed her hands loudly against the countertop, startling the cook and bar owner who was close by. She sent them an apologetic look before turning to calm down. She picked up the sound of the kitchen door opening but she ignored it, writing it off as the robotic cook and the bar owner giving her much needed space.

She was slightly surprised when she felt familiar, slight muscular arms wrap around her waist. Almost immediately the tension in her body faded and she slouched against the firm chest of Jim Hawkins. She huffed loudly and glared up into the rafters.

"Long day?" the boy mumbled in his ear. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. He faintly heard the loud groan of exasperation from the girl.

"You don't know the half of it! I have tons of orders to fill with very little help and those **people** can't seem to wait long enough for me to take a breath to whine about something!" The slightly chapped lips pressed softly against her neck, which normally would calm her, only fueled her irritation.

She turned in the arms of her companion and set him with an intense glare. Jim, in turn, leaned down and placed a chaste kiss upon the scowling girl lips; a kiss that wasn't returned. The boy pulled away from the girl and gave her face a once over.

"What's really wrong?" the brunette male asked after a moment. He watched as the girl lowered her head and pressed her forehead softly against his chest, her fingers wrapping themselves tightly in the folds of his shirt.

_**Just lately I've been feeling like I don't belong…..**_

"I don't belong here." Her words were slightly muffled by his shirt but he could make out her words well enough. "I never belonged here." Her words caused a sharp pain to run through the boy's chest.

_**Like the ground is not mine to walk upon.**_

He pushed the girl away at arm's length and offered her a shaky smile, masking his hurt. "You're just tired; let me take over your shift and you go and get some sleep?"

The girl sighed loudly and shook her head weakly but nonetheless pushed away from the boy's arms and made her way out of the kitchen. Jim watched as the girl disappeared through the doors before picking up an empty tray and hurrying to replace the waitress's position, pushing the sad, pleading gaze of the former pirate that yearned for escape to the back of his mind. Escape that entitled leaving him, something he wasn't too sure that he was ready to face.


End file.
